


What the Doctor Ordered

by starfishing



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-23
Updated: 2007-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 18:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishing/pseuds/starfishing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking a careful breath, Seiichi called to mind some of the least arousing sights he'd ever seen. Like Marui stuffing his face, or Renji's creepy trysts with Seigaku's data specialist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Doctor Ordered

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://i146.photobucket.com/albums/r259/Kazekoji/TeniPuri/t127kangohusan.jpg) intriguing piece of art from [Maybism](http://www.roomoor.com/).

The nurse's hands were as firm and as careful as always, running delicately up the back of his calf beneath his uniform pants. Her fingers pressed here and there to no real discomfort, and Seiichi settled back in his chair a bit, relaxing.

"No pain here, then?" she asked as she pushed the leg of his pants up to his knee. He confirmed cheerfully, and she began to examine the back of his thigh, lifting his leg a bit to reach a little higher.

Seiichi felt his muscles tense a bit as the woman's well-manicured hand slipped further inside the leg of his slacks, her palm flat on the underside of his thigh. Simultaneously, his eyes found a better place to be than lingering on the sharp cut of her dress where the zipper was stopped. The nurse was one of the women who had attended him during his time as an in-patient. She was a younger woman; in her twenties, he was fairly sure, and looking good for it. Her blonde hair was pinned up off of her neck, and her full lips were more often than not turned up in a sweet, indulgent smile.

She pulled her hand mercifully away and replaced his pants leg where it belonged, only to squeeze his thigh from above, putting the same light pressure on his muscles that she had been this whole time. His eyes darted away, back and then upward, and he frowned, his brow creasing. It was just a check-up, but he could still feel that faint, familiar flutter in his stomach, like what happened when he caught sight of Niou and Yagyuu locked at hips and lips behind the clubhouse.

Her thumbs pressed inward, precariously close to his groin, and despite himself, Seiichi shifted away, shrugging one shoulder up to his ear. The nurse looked up at him, meeting his widened eyes. "Did that hurt?"

"Ah... no." He tried a smile. "Sorry; it was just... startling."

He couldn't tell if she suspected anything or not, but he was nonetheless relieved when she released his hip. As she paused to jot something down, her breasts swelling at the zipper of her dress caught his unfledged eye, and he flushed a bit, turning his head away entirely.

Now was _so_ not the time. Taking a careful breath, Seiichi called to mind some of the least arousing sights he'd ever seen. Like Marui stuffing his face, or Renji's creepy trysts with Seigaku's data specialist. The last thing he wanted was a hard-on with Chieko kneeling in front of him.

Unfortunately, the fates seemed to be conspiring against him this afternoon, because Chieko set aside the clipboard, stood, and asked him politely, "Could you untuck your shirt, Seiichi-kun?"

Mustering another soft, sunny expression, Seiichi sat up and freed his shirt from his pants and belt. She told him to stand, so he did, working valiantly to keep his eyes where they belonged and his mind out of the gutter.

But then her hands were up his shirt, on his sides and his hips, and his skin prickled. He closed his eyes, barely shivering. Chieko felt up his stomach with both thumbs, almost causing Seiichi to give way to the urge to roll his shoulders back at the sensation. When he felt her loosening his tie, he started and opened his eyes to her unassuming smile again.

"We'll have to take your shirt off," she pointed out, "for the rest of the examination."

"Right," he answered weakly, reaching up to undo his own tie and unbutton his shirt.

"No weakness or pain up here, either?" Chieko asked as she took up one of his slim arms and gently kneaded the firm muscle there.

Seiichi shook his head. "None."

"You've been playing lightly, haven't you?"

"More or less."

Cheiko stopped to give him a scolding look, but quickly returned to the task at hand. "Well, to be honest, I think it's good for you. And you've made it this far playing by your own rules, so I figure you'll be okay."

A smile flickered into place, genuine this time, and died just as quickly in favour of an alarmed look once Chieko stepped up close to him. Her hands were on his back now, over his shoulders and down near his sides, and the brush of her breasts against his chest sent a jolt straight to his cock. "Th-thank you," he managed, but it sounded breathless.

She moved away again, but bent to pick up the clipboard before Seiichi could even think of breathing a sigh of relief. His head tipped back, as if in a silent groan, but he kept his eyes on Chieko's rounded, upturned ass.

Until she spoke, it hadn't occurred to him that a clipboard and a pen should not, in fact, take any longer than ten seconds to collect from the floor.

"Seiichi-kun."

He jumped badly, stepping back, and covered his mouth briefly with one hand, his face heating up. "I — I'm sorry, Chieko-san, I — I didn't —"

Straightening, Chieko smiled her patient smile at him, placing the clipboard on the counter and going over to cup his face in her hands. "Please, Seiichi-kun. It's perfectly normal."

Bowing to the fullest extent that his erection would allow (in part to escape the nurse's well-meaning hands), Seiichi apologized again, twice, after which he was bid to shut up.

"Really, Seiichi-kun, it's a perfectly normal reaction; nothing to be ashamed of." Nonetheless, his face was burning, and he half-wished she'd just forego the rest of the procedure and let him leave. Sure, it was a 'perfectly normal reaction,' but that didn't mean it wasn't also 'embarrassing as hell.'

The door opened then, making Seiichi start again, horribly, and Chieko glanced over at the redheaded intern who walked in.

"Chieko-san, I have —" The woman paused when she took in the scene; Seiichi's mortified stance and expression, and Chieko's apparent good-natured amusement. "... Did I miss something?"

"Close the door," Chieko answered, and Seiichi thought, _Fuck_.

Gesturing to Seiichi, Chieko explained, "Seiichi-kun here is in a bit of a predicament." She waited as the other woman's eyes flicked up and down the boy's tall, slender form, and smiled when they caught at his hips for a moment.

"Oh. _Oh_ ," was the response.

Seiichi shook his head and backed away another step, bringing the backs of his knees against the chair he'd previously been occupying and sitting down quite involuntarily. That didn't help at all. Now, forced to look up to meet their gazes (not that he wanted to, at any rate), Seiichi couldn't help but feel intimidated. It was neither a familiar nor welcome feeling.

As the silence spanned the room, Chieko rubbed the back of her neck. After a spell, she said delicately, "Well, Seiichi-kun... you're free to use the bathroom; Kotone and I will afford you some privacy, if you like."

"Or," Kotone interrupted, looking a bit apprehensive, "we could, uh... help you out a little bit, ourselves."

Chieko looked scandalized. "Kotone! Are you serious?"

Colouring prettily herself, Kotone looked downward. "Well... I wouldn't mind, anyway, and I wouldn't say anything to the doctor."

Seiichi was vaguely aware that his mouth was open. This, he realized, was the kind of thing that happened in those low-budget pornography videos that Niou consistently tried to coax them all into watching (for 'educational quality team time,' he claimed, but no one believed him, not since they caught him 'educating' Kirihara that once). Women threw themselves at an unsuspecting man for absolutely no apparent reason, and he was treated to raucous sexual ventures and lavish doting attention for the next hour. This sort of thing wasn't supposed to _happen_ in real life. But here it was, Kotone peeking at him from beneath her lashes, Chieko looking less skeptical by the second, and his cock pulsing and straining at the front of his slacks.

Gathering his wits about him and closing his mouth, Seiichi took a deep breath. A part of him would vastly prefer being left alone with his utter humiliation, but a much larger part — the part that flirted with the girl's tennis team just to see them blush; the same part that wanted to slap Gen'ichirou's ass on his last lap around the courts and dare Niou to sneak into the girls' clubhouse just so he could confiscate the pictures later — was tempted to agree, if only to satisfy a deep-seated, hormone-driven curiosity.

"Seiichi-kun?" Chieko was looking at him, apparently a bit uncertain herself, but she was smiling favourably with those sweet, full, red-painted lips, and Seiichi felt electricity pass through him.

He knew he was far out of his depth, but too much of him couldn't say no, so he didn't. He swallowed instead, and nodded slowly, inhaling deeply to calm himself. The fact that both women brightened at his assent probably should have frightened him, but Seiichi was not in the practice of being frightened or even intimidated, and he'd already done too much of both that day to allow any more.

Already seated in the chair, all he could do was watch as the two of them approached, Chieko easing down the zipper of her dress as she came closer. Kotone circled behind him and squeezed his shoulders, beginning a languid massage in the hopes of relaxing him a bit.

Chieko stepped so that she straddled one of the boy's knees, then smiled encouragingly as she leaned down in front of him, tilting his head with a soft hand so she could kiss his lips. Haltingly, he kissed back, opening his mouth readily enough and meeting her tongue with a clumsier one. Kotone's hands slipped, flat-palmed, from his shoulders to his bared chest, nails raking over each nipple in turn. A noise escaped from the back of Seiichi's throat into Chieko's mouth.

As the kiss wore on, deepening, intensifying, Chieko's hand came to rest over the bulge in Seiichi's uniform pants. It lingered, stroked, squeezed, and Seiichi murmured indistinctly against her lips, already trembling. Her fingers wove into his hair, guiding his teeth and tongue downward. Obediently, he kissed her jaw, licked the very edge of her ear, and latched onto her throat with firm teeth, earning himself a kindly reprimanding tug on the locks of hair that she held.

Kotone's hands vanished for a moment, for all that Seiichi noticed, and then she was kneeling in front of him, her bosom laying over his lap and her tongue teasing one of his nipples. The unexpected warmth made his cock twitch, his hips lifting beneath her breasts. She arched her back to return the pressure.

Seiichi was darkly flushed, hot even without his shirt. The sound and feel of his zipper being drawn down elicited a gasp and a heavy throb from his still-trapped erection. He broke away from Chieko's neck, panting, to watch with glazed eyes as Kotone pulled his cock free. There was already a thick bead of pre-come at the tip, which Kotone did away with quickly, sending fire through Seiichi's veins and making his stomach flip.

Turning his head toward her again, Chieko unzipped her dress down past her diaphragm, parting the sides to expose her breasts fully. Like a kitten, Seiichi caught a nipple up in his mouth, suckling eagerly, rolling over it with his tongue again and again. He found his hands and cupped her breasts with them. Chieko moaned, a low, thrilling sound that made Seiichi's head spin.

Between Seiichi's legs, Kotone gripped the base of his aching cock, pumping him just once before beginning to suck on the head. The gesture instantly wrought a deep-chested groan from the boy, and Kotone's hand soon held him down, palm pressed to his lower abdomen. Her free hand took up his balls, beginning to knead them ever-so-gently, causing him to squirm. That flipping sensation was back, and Seiichi was only now realizing that this whole affair couldn't possibly last very long.

Kotone's hand on his stomach became firmer, and was shortly joined by its partner as the redhead gradually took Seiichi's hard-on deep into her mouth, until her throat wouldn't allow it any more leeway.

He was shaking, his hands unsteady on Chieko's breasts; his head had fallen back, mouth open and gasping, chest heaving. The heady feeling of his stomach and balls tensing up swept right over him, leaving his body straining and arching, such that Chieko had to restrain him as well. She kissed him then, too, to silence the broken whines that issued from his mouth with every panted breath.

The sounds intensified before another two minutes had passed, and Kotone's pace had yet to slow. That familiar, shameful buzz settled in, making him buck and moan, and another fifteen seconds saw the tension released in a cascade, like surging water finally overcoming a dam. Chieko swallowed his keening wails and Kotone swallowed his come, and between the two of them, Seiichi was thoroughly spent. There were tears in his eyes when they parted from him, and he remained motionless in the chair, face and neck still flushed a lovely pink.

Chieko zipped her dress up and went over to the sink, turning the faucet on, and over her shoulder, she said, "Of course, Seiichi-kun, you know better than to mention this to anyone?" She turned to face him, a damp cloth in her hand, and came to kneel in front of him and clean him off.

Languidly, Seiichi nodded. "Ah... thank you, Chieko-san; Kotone-san."

"It was nothing," Kotone assured him. Her smile was a little doting, but Seiichi didn't mind. He sat up wearily, reaching for his shirt to put it on.

  
The next day, when Niou shoved a porn magazine in Jackal's face and Seiichi plucked it from his hands, they all thought he was joking when he glanced at it and said, "I've had better."

It wasn't until they saw the scratch marks on his chest in the clubroom that they even thought to take him seriously.


End file.
